


Snake Charmer

by dancey94



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Aperitif retold, Casual Sex, Hannibal is a Cannibal, M/M, Nightmares, Plot Twists, Religious Discussion, Visions, but is he the Ripper?, i intend to make it a story, the list will grow longer as i continue on
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-13
Updated: 2016-01-01
Packaged: 2018-05-06 12:01:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 16,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5416169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dancey94/pseuds/dancey94
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will finds himself so overwhelmed with cases, he steps into a church. An accidental meeting impacts his life in a way he would never predict.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Unfolding

**Author's Note:**

> i was missing a title and then i figured out the song will impact the story later and suit perfectly

One could argue that the church Will enters is random. Maybe even Will thinks so as he doesn’t believe in fate. The rows of wooden benches and the hymn books along with the candles and awful weather outside makes Graham uneasy. There are only four people in the church, all worshippers. Will has no idea when the mass will start and he hopes that not soon. He needs peace and silence. God only knows why of all the places he chose to enter the church to think. But he was passing it and he expected rain so maybe that’s the explanation.

Will takes a seat in the last row and waits. He waits for the peace of mind and heart, for all the terrifying images to go away and for the voice in his head to finally shut up. The pendulum in his mind still swings, dictating a slow steady rhythm but never stopping. He can’t sleep because the constant ticking in his head won’t let him.

Only after a moment Graham spots a man by the confessional. His faint murmurs can be partly heard and Will, although unwittingly, makes out most of the man’s confession. It makes him upset.

Graham turns away when the man finally leaves the confessional, ashamed of looking at him. There is another man on the other side of the church. He’s sitting on a bench, looking down. Graham was raised a catholic but he attended mainly the mass on Sunday. He never understood why people would come to church on any other day. Why would they waste their time sitting here?

The man is dressed in a dark suit and his hair is combed backwards. A man of success. What is he doing here, looking as if he suffered the most humiliating and tragic loss?

Will sighs and looks away. He wants his brain to stop; he needs to stop analysing every single detail and stop creating scenarios for every single person he sees. It’s difficult. Once his mind starts creating images, there is no going back. Graham shifts his gaze at the man again and then looks at the watch on his wrist. It’s half past one. On Thursday. And the man is sitting in a church. He’s not praying, at least not aloud; he’s not even whispering. Anything he’s saying, he’s doing it in his mind.

Will looks at the cross behind the altar, then counts all the windows in the building and then, not to appear like an intruder, he lights a candle.

**********

 Graham can’t tell why he’s back at the church the next week but he supposes he finds peace there. It combines the silence and cosiness of his home with company of other people. And it doesn’t bother him that he’s not alone in the room. He takes a seat in the last row and carefully looks around. Three people – two in the first row, dressed in black couple and a man on the other side of the building. He’s wearing a dark sweater and seemingly tailored pants. Will feels compelled to look at his watch. Twenty minutes past one.

Graham reaches for the hymn book and opens it on a random page. He reads a few first lines and frowns. It’s strangely familiar. He can almost remember the melody and it makes him sick. He never liked singing and never appreciated listening to others pretend not to be out of tune. Will closes the book and puts it back where it was.

The man on the other side stands up and simply leaves. He doesn’t cross himself, doesn’t dip his hand in the font before he exits. Maybe he’s as much religious as Will and comes here more of curiosity rather than true love and devotion to God.

**********

Next Thursday Will is in another state, examining a crime scene, and he feels out of place. It’s not odd, considering he always feels out of place at crime scenes; he needs to walk in a killer’s shoes and for a moment he enjoys the act of taking a life. But this time it’s more than the horrifying act itself. This time it’s about him forming a habit and breaking it after only two weeks.

Graham is uneasy and Jack sees it but he doesn’t say anything. As long as Will works and helps catch the killer, he’s fine.

In the evening, in his hotel room, Will turns off every lamp and the tv. He lights one candle he bought on his way here and waits. He watches the yellow and red of the flame and then lies down on the bed. He’s afraid that if he closes his eyes, he’ll see the killer. He’s afraid he’ll see the victim - the woman with her hair around her neck and eyes asking for forgiveness.

He doesn’t. When Will closes his eyes, he sees complete darkness. Then a light gradually makes an appearance and a few candles emerge. Graham spots a figure, a shape of a man, dressed in black. Suddenly, a choir of angels appear and one of them, a girl dressed in white, approaches the familiar man. The girl stretches her hand towards the man, who weeps and tries to go in her direction. There is a wall between them and he can’t follow the angels. The girl disappears along with the choir and the man remains, his eyes black and lost.

**********

Having promised himself he’d appear again in the church, Will does everything to ensure he’ll be free on Thursday or at least for a moment after noon. He enters the building at one and takes his usual seat in the last row. The man is not there and Will starts wondering if he will even show up. Maybe it was just a coincidence that he saw him there two times in two weeks.

Fifteen minutes later the man appears, slightly breathless, like he was hurrying to get here. He sits in the last row on the other side and tries to catch his breath. Graham can’t help but smile faintly and his mind eases knowing the routine is undisturbed.

Will has been called a freak or a sociopath many times and he supposes people perceive him as strange but he doesn’t care. He watches the man and tries to memorise him. He compares the looks with the vision from a week before.

Suddenly, the man stands up and takes a few steps in Will’s direction. Graham doesn’t look away, only frowns, waiting where the man is heading. Exactly next to Will. The man sits on the bench, inches away from Graham, and faces the altar.

“How does coming here make you feel?” The man asks in a mere whisper. Will narrows his eyes and considers his answer.

“A comforting sense of peace and intensity can be found in a church.”

“How about love or forgiveness?” The man pressures.

“I’m not a believer.” Will admits and expects the man to go away or scold him. No such thing happens, but rather the man smiles shyly.

“Here we are, two non-believers who meet in church every Thursday.”

Will realises he’s not altogether surprised the man has taken notice of his presence. Graham only wonders what is the man’s intention, coming here every week and being a non-believer as he just confessed.

“What are _you_ looking for here every week?”

“There’s a lot of qualities to be found in a church.”

“Tell me.” Will whispers and feels strange doing so. They’re in a temple, among a few worshippers and they shamelessly engage in a conversation.

“I don’t have much time. My lunch break ends soon.”

“Do you come here only on Thursdays?”

“I come here If I don’t have any other duties. But having seen you twice on Thursdays and on no other day made me clear my schedule particularly on that day in a week.”

An older lady in the first row turns to look at Will with a frown on her face. She puts a finger on her lips, indicating the men to keep quiet. It’s a church, for God’s sake. Will cannot help but smile faintly and actually feels a sense of youth and playfulness at his insolent behaviour.

The man next to Graham contemplates over something and finally makes his decision. He takes out a small piece of paper, a business card, and hands it to Will.

“I’m working until six. I would love to continue this conversation. But, unfortunately, I must return to my duties now.”

Will watches the man exit the church and only then takes a closer look at the small card. The text seems to be handwritten, an elegant, calligraphic and precise style. If the man wrote it himself, he can’t have many of those.

_Doctor of Psychiatry  
Hannibal Lecter_

And an address of the office. Does the man also live there? Will hides the card in his pocket and sighs. A psychiatrist. Will’s seen many of those. He was examined when he wanted to join the FBI and he failed. He hates people trying to get inside his head, hates manipulation, especially when he’s the one on the receiving end.

Graham stays for a while longer in the church, mulling over if he should go tomorrow at the given address. A psychiatrist. Will’s mouth feels dry already and the disgust at the sole name of the profession wipes the smile of Will’s face. He can’t. He won’t. And that would mean he’d have to cease coming here. What a shame.


	2. Mr Graham

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> slightly short and from a different perspective, which i believe i may experiment with again ^^

It’s risky to assume Hannibal acts recklessly. He likes to indulge in things other people consider improper or immoral and also behaves accordingly to his whims. But there is nothing short of recklessness in his actions.

His last patient on Friday leaves the office exactly at six and Lecter closes the door behind him. He checks if the office is neat, takes his coat and leaves as well. There is no one in the waiting room as Hannibal locks the door, and there is no one waiting in front of the building. Hannibal looks around, his eyes skimming the street, but he’s aware his hope is pointless.

Lecter crosses the short path between the door and the fence, and when he’s about to open the door to his car, someone approaches him.

“Excuse me, is this the way to a church?”

Hannibal looks at a middle-aged man, dressed in a gray coat and a hat.

“Yes. You have to go straight and then at the second cross-section turn left. You’ll see it in a distance.”

“Thank you.” The man says and walks away.

Lecter gets inside the car and heads home.

**********

There is something very appealing in the silence surrounding his home. No one bothers him, no one expects him to do anything. It’s just him and his whims. People often call him, of course, regarding appointments or his articles on various topics. And he gets emails every day. There is just no indicator or another person living in this house. No other presence, smell and warmth. No flesh and blood for him to care about.

He doesn’t mind. He likes walking around, cooking, reading, and be left alone in peace.

Hannibal makes himself a delicious dinner, there was still a piece of kidney in the fridge, and eats it to the sound of Bach’s aria. After washing the dishes he picks up the book he has been reading lately and spends an entire hour with it. When his eyes feel slightly tired, he pours himself a drink and sips it by the fire in the living room The music pervades the whole room and the Lecter feels the vibrations in his chest.

The heart wants what the hears wants and a strange pang of regret invades Hannibal’s mind. So much for a lovely evening.

**********

If Hannibal was a family man, he would not work on Saturdays. If he had more friends whom he’d like to give more attention, he’d cancel his appointments on the weekends. But despite his many hobbies and other activities, he sees patients on Saturdays, leaving only one day fully for himself. And it’s not about respecting and cherishing the holy day. He’s not a believer, at least not in a sense other people are. It has to do with having one day to spend however he sees fit and not be bothered.

Hannibal doesn’t even clears his schedule to make room for a lunch break on Saturdays. He simply sees a few patients and leaves the office at three.

The weather is awful. People throw away broken umbrellas and try to wash the stains on their pants and coats after a splash caused by a car driving by. Most of the trees have already shed leaves and the view of the neighbourhood resembles the one from the typical cliché horror movie. Hannibal’s keys clunk, adding to the atmosphere of terror and hopelessness, and the man locks the door to the office.

There is a temptation in Lecter’s mind, inviting him to the church, to check if maybe, for some reason, his new acquaintance is there. Logic wins and Hannibal drives straight to his house.

**********

It’s been a long time since he was last in a church for the Sunday mass. And it has never been out of his own volition. The church and the concepts carried along with religion have always fascinated Hannibal but there was never a deeper need for praying or feeling a connection with God that would compel Lecter to become a regular, typical worshipper. This Sunday doesn’t change his attitude and doesn’t mean he’s been converted.

Hannibal puts on his gray suit and walks all the way to the church he has been visiting for some time. Hope and an unfamiliar yet feeling cloud his judgement, making him somewhat an easy target. He doesn’t like that.

Hannibal sits in the last row, on his usual place, and waits. People gather and in a few minutes the whole building is filled with the congregation of the faithful. Lecter can sense the openness of hearts and the desperate need for a better future. There are those who came to give thanks and those who bare requests. Among them, there are also those who came to church for the first time in a long time. Lecter watches the priest act as the God’s proxy but his mind is elsewhere completely.

Hannibal is walking down a street in Florence. He’s admiring the smell of fresh flowers and fruit. He’s listening to the bells on a nearby tower and people’s chatting surrounding him. He’s withdrawing.

Lecter leaves the church after ten minutes and goes back home, slightly disappointed.

**********

His last patient comes late. Only five minutes left but it’s enough for Hannibal to consider rude. The session goes as usual and Lecter quickly comes back to his reality, abandoning his hopes of seeing the man from the church again. Yet there is a strange possibility that he will go there on Thursday and the unknown fascinates him. Hannibal finds himself in the fog of still hopeful intentions again.

At six, he lets his patient out and stays a moment longer to write an few additional notes in his calendar. Only around a quarter past six does he turn off the lamps and leaves the office. Having made sure he locked the door, Hannibal turns to face the street and spots a man by the fence. Lecter approaches the gate and recognises the man.

“Good evening.” Says the man Hannibal met in church.

“Good evening.”

Lecter closes the gate and looks at the man in front of him. He’s wearing a dark green jacket and glasses. _Was he wearing glasses in the church?_ Hannibal offers a faint smile of appreciation. The man came after all.

“I was wondering if we could continue our conversation.” The man says; his voice sounds tired and slightly desperate – he needs distraction. And it couldn’t wait until Thursday.

“Of course.”

“But don’t make me lie on a couch and tell you about my childhood.”

“I won’t. I promise. I’m heading home and was planning on making dinner. Would you like to join me?”

“I don’t want to bother you.” The man hesitates.

“Not at all. I’d love to have company this evening.”

“Then alright.”

“Did you come here by car or…?” Lecter asks.

“Yeah. I parked just around the corner.”

“Then I believe it would be the best if you followed me.”

The man nods and is about to walk away to his car, when Hannibal realises he still doesn’t know his name. Lecter doesn’t want to be rude and the man is out of reach to touch him so he speaks a little louder to stop the man.

“Excuse me.”

“Yes?” The man turns back with brows raised in confusion. Hannibal steps closer and extends his hand.

“We haven’t been officially introduced. I feel partly responsible for that. Hannibal Lecter.”

“Will Graham.” The man says and shakes Hannibal’s hand. It lasts very shortly but Hannibal manages to memorise the level of strength in the handshake as well as a strange electricity that runs through him. _Did Mr Graham feel that, too?_


	3. First impressions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> today's Cyrus's 3rd birthday YAY! ^^

Graham parks his car behind Lecter’s and gets out. He looks around the neighbourhood – all beautiful expensive and tasteful villas surrounded by neatly trimmed bushes and with quite big yards. Will supposes he could have suspected that Hannibal was wealthy. He follows the man to the door of a somewhat different house. Hannibal ushers his guest inside and takes his jacket to hang it along with his own.

Will can’t help but notice every smallest detail in the house. There is a brown umbrella waiting in the corner. The wallpaper is neat and stylish, trying to recreate the atmosphere form another decade. Graham moves carefully behind Hannibal, who seems to be enjoying himself. Lecter moves like a cat, which isn’t altogether surprising – it’s his own house and who doesn’t feel comfortable in such conditions? Especially when the house is big and carries a sense of belonging to another epoch.

Hannibal leads them to the kitchen where he points an armchair for Will to sit in. The man smiles and opens a cabinet.

“Wine? Juice? Water?”

“Water will be fine.”

Lecter takes out a glass and pours the man some water. He puts the glass on the counter, hesitating, before approaching Will and handing it to the man. Then, Hannibal opens the fridge and takes out a piece of meat. Will sips the water while watching the other man carefully chop vegetables.

“Shall I help?” Graham asks politely.

“Would you like some wine with the dinner or a cup of tea?”

“I’m driving. Tea would be probably better.”

“Then you can turn on the stove and boil some water.”

Will nods and does as he’s told. There is something neat and strange about the kitchen’s style. The wood has a peculiar colour and the steel surfaces in the room makes it cold. Will takes notice of all the cookbooks and small bottles with different herbs and spices. The room is spacious and fit to hold more than just one man.

“Do you live alone?” Graham asks, the urge being too strong.

“Yes.” Hannibal answers softly and then smiles. “Is it that obvious?”

“You seem so adjusted to the space around you. And you said you’d love to have company.”

“Well, I often invite people for dinner. But I do live alone.”

The water boils and Hannibal points at the cabinet where Will finds two cups for the tea. Lecter takes out two teabags and helps his guest with the task, then returns to his own. He continues chopping various vegetables and then setting them snugly around the piece of meat.

“It’s a heart.” Will says, recognising the meat when he takes a closer look.

“Yes. Do you mind? Forgive me, I didn’t ask if you were a meat-eater.”

“It’s fine. I don’t think I’ve ever had a heart.”

“I’ll be happy to broaden your palate.” Hannibal says with a wide smile on his face. Graham doesn’t question why he’s in a stranger’s house. It’s not something he’s used to doing but it doesn’t feel bad. He thinks he found a spark of connection and he wants to hold onto it. Besides, even if the man turns out to be a douche, Will is going to try a heart and again be proved that socializing isn’t really for him. “So, tell me, Will – may I call you Will?” Graham nods. “Tell me, what do you do?”

Here it is. Something Will hates admitting – his occupation. And even more so when he’s in a psychiatrist’s company.

“I work in law enforcement.”

“Interesting. It makes me even more curious as to why you were visiting the church for the past few weeks.”

“I believe we broke off our conversation at the point where you were about to tell me that.” Will fights back.

“Yes.” Lecter offers a very charming smile and puts a metal tray with the heart and vegetables into the oven. “This will take a moment so I suggest we retire to the living room.”

Graham nods, glancing towards the food in the oven, and then follows Hannibal. Will’s every step is careful as he pays attention to the intricate instrument resembling a piano, the shelves filled with various books and the tiles on the floor. Everything seems planned, the decorations thought through and deliberate. Hannibal points at the pair of armchairs by the fireplace and the men take their seats.

Lecter starts the fire and enjoys the gentle warmth. It’s been so gloomy and chilly outside for the last few days.

“I’m not a believer, not like the people who come to church to worship. But I understand the concept of God and am strangely fascinated by it.” Hannibal explains. “Ever since my sister died I’ve been exploring this area in humanity which makes people think they are less troubled when they enter church. They assume God helps them after suffering from a loss or any other trauma.”

“And you don’t?”

“If this puts them at ease, then I’m not going to shatter the illusion. It only fascinates me how, in so many cultures, there is always a place for the Absolute.”

“I was raised a Catholic. But with time I guess I noticed I have more powerful connection with those here, on Earth, than the one in a place no one has ever seen.”

“What made you join the law enforcement?”

“It was more of a sum of different reasons than one specific.” Will answers and sips the tea. The friendly fire makes his feet warm and his skin glow. Graham relaxes in the chair and thinks in how situation he finds himself. Dr Lecter is a stranger, polite and accommodating, but a stranger nonetheless. And they didn’t start with names, family, interest or any other basic information. They plunged into the hard-core stuff at once. “Was it different when you decided to become a psychiatrist?”

“I suppose it wasn’t. But I didn’t become a psychiatrist until fairly recently. I used to be a surgeon. That was one of my earliest dreams. Then, the pile of people I couldn’t save grew and with it my discouragement. Now I still get to help people but no one died as a result of my therapy.” Lecter concludes with a warm smile.

Will returns the smile; he can appreciate the wit and sharpness of other people. Even psychiatrists.

“You said you had a sister. Isn’t that why you find yourself in a church every now and then? Because even though you don’t believe God will alleviate the pain, you find the sole atmosphere amusing in a way?”

“No. It doesn’t have anything to do with my sister.” Hannibal states, his tone slightly harsher.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have… I feel like an intruder.” Will mumbles an apology.

“There’s no need. I’m not used to people try to read me that carefully. Everyone seems to be content with just scratching the surface.”

“I know the feeling.”

They finish the tea and Lecter takes the cups to the kitchen. He checks the oven and then beckons Will to the dining room.

“I’ll return shortly. Please, make yourself comfortable.”

Graham looks at the long wooden table and counts the symmetrically set chairs. He stands by a painting over the fireplace and tries to understand what a person who put it there was thinking. The navy blue walls around and the dim light makes Will quite comfy, providing a sense of the surreal, like he was in a safe place in his own imagination. Not that his mind is a safe place, not really. That’s where the nightmares are stored.

Hannibal brings two plates and the cutlery which he sets by the chairs opposite each other. Graham seems to only now realising he’s in someone’s house and about to eat dinner. Not his typical evening.

“I don’t usually trust people.” Will confesses suddenly, feeling the need to explain himself.

“Yet you came all the way here.” Hannibal observes.

“Maybe I have a brain damage.”

“Or perhaps a similar to mine dull ache inside and the need for recognition.” Hannibal suggests and takes the first bite of the heart.

“I’m quite comfortable alone, at home, isolated from all the filth and hypocrisy.”

“You work in law enforcement. I bet you see quite enough of the filth.”

“Makes you wonder what’s wrong with people.”

“And? Did you come to any conclusion?”

“There is no one correct answer.”

Will tastes the meat and cannot believe his own tongue. The meal is delicious and the atmosphere is not intrusive as he assumed it would be.

“Have you ever considered becoming a chef?” Graham asks and Hannibal only smiles shyly, acknowledging the compliment. “Honestly, this is delicious. Thank you for… inviting me.”

“My pleasure. It’s nice to finally have a proper conversation instead of exchanging trivia.”

“Not my usual Monday evening as well.”

Hannibal nods and then remembers there is a question still unanswered which he wants to explore.

“I didn’t see you in the church before the other Thursday.”

“Yeah. I’m not a fan. I mean, I-”

“Then why now?”

Graham sighs and carefully considers his answer. However friendly the host, Will probably shouldn’t throw the whole unstable-profiler-for-the-FBI thing on the table at the first meeting. Lying isn’t a very option either.

“It wasn’t planned. I was in the neighbourhood, as they say, and my mind needed a rest.”

“I see.”

Nothing more. The man doesn’t ask for more details; he leaves the choice to Will, whether he will reveal more or leave it there.

Suddenly a thought springs to Will’s mind and he wonders if he could manipulate the situation to his advantage. Maybe in the nearest future.

“I was involved in law enforcement affairs some time ago. The FBI asked me to consult on a case.” Hannibal says and Will wonders whether it’s bragging or simple jump from one association to another. Anyway, Lecter worked for the FBI. But Will doesn’t remember him. Neither does Lecter, apparently.

“Impressive. How did the case go?”

“I’m afraid they didn’t solve it. Actually, they still haven’t solved it.”

That gets Graham intrigued.

“Care to reveal any details?”

“Considering the fact that you belong to the circle, I might just say that it was the Chesapeake Ripper’s case.”

Will’s throat tightens. There was something that drove him to the man and even though it sounds illogical, Graham believes that was that. That’s what they have in common, besides maybe plenty of other things. Will rubs his eyes and tries to gauge whether this is real. Maybe it’s one of his nightmares transcending into the reality.

“Are you alright?” Lecter asks and Will knows he’s pale.

“Yes. Only slightly dizzy. It will pass soon.”

“I hope so. I need to be sure you get home safely. Is it a long drive?”

“I live in Virginia.”

Hannibal’s brows rise gently. He’s trying to hide his surprise.

“And yet you entered a church in Baltimore.”

“I was on the case. The victim was found here.”

“And the following week?”

“I have no excuse.”

“No other than the fact that you truly wanted to be there.”

Will looks away. There were very few moments he kept eye contact with Hannibal and the man must have noticed, being a psychiatrist and all. Yet he doesn’t seem to be bothered by that. He doesn’t broach this or imply he’s offended.

“I was waiting for you on Friday.” Lecter confesses but doesn’t notice shame or regret in Graham’s gentle twitch of lips. There was a quick response in his mouth but he decided to keep it.

“I couldn’t come.”

“Couldn’t or wouldn’t? I understand psychiatrists make you uncomfortable.”

“There were a few who impeded my career in law enforcement.”

“How so?”

“Screening procedures. They must have seen me as a grumpy, rude man and decided not to give me a pass.”

“That would be very unprofessional of them. Personal prejudices and relationships shouldn’t have an impact on such important decisions.”

“Anyway, I’ve had enough of people trying to get inside my head. So yes, I was reluctant to see you again.”

“I’m glad you decided to come eventually.”

The dinner being over, Will declines an offer of a drink and leaves the house. He gets into his car and heads home. There is an urge inside Graham to make it possible to be at that church on Thursday again.


	4. Consulting psychiatrists

Tuesdays carry hope that everything bad happened on Monday and the rest of the week will be bearable. That’s not always the case and Will finds himself on the outskirts of Baltimore, again, looking at a dead body.

Something didn’t let him sleep after the dinner with Dr Lecter and Will is slightly dizzy and confused. Jack Crawford called him and told him the address, which made Graham shiver. Baltimore.

The last victim was found in a church with their tongue as a bookmark in a Bible. This one has their heart cut out.

A heart.

“A kidney is missing as well.” Says Jimmy Price and pokes Zeller to move.

The man has to be taken down from the place where he was nailed to a wall of his own house. Will has been a witness to this killer’s madness for too long and no other killer managed to distract him. Graham is always focused on the Ripper, who seems to be enjoying the game.

“There is no pattern. There is nothing here that would bring us closer to him.” Will states with an irritated expression. He knows it’s the Ripper but he can’t see his face. Crawford seems on edge, too.

“I don’t believe you’re focused. I need you here, Will.”

“I’ve seen enough.” Graham says and leaves the crime scene with everyone’s eyes on his back.

**********

Going there, again, is a reckless, if not utterly stupid, idea. But Will wants to be convinced he’s wrong. And he keeps being driven into this place, this man.

Graham waits until one and that’s when the door to Hannibal’s office opens, letting out a patient.

“Hello, Will.” Dr Lecter says slightly surprised but with a proud smile.

“Hello, Dr Lecter. Do you have any spare time to talk to me?”

“This is my lunchbreak so if you want to, you can come in.”

Will hesitates. He hates psychiatrists and their not-so-hidden methods to mess with people’s minds. Graham knows that the office is a foreign territory for him but perfectly familiar to Hannibal. There’s all degrees of disadvantage. Will doesn’t question his own decision and steps inside the office.

The first thing Graham spots are the crimson walls. There is also a wooden ladder leading to another level with lots of books. Will looks around carefully but trying not to seem nosy. There are plenty of small trinkets and pictures on the walls.

Hannibal points at one of the two chairs standing opposite each other. Will sits down, slightly dizzy from all the new things around him. This isn’t your typical psychiatrist’s office. It’s cosy yet dangerous. There’s a fireplace and a piano. A coach which looks like it’s a mere decoration rather than a piece of furniture.

“Tell me, what made you come back to me so soon?” Hannibal asks, visibly amused.

“It’s not official but I’m here as a professional, not an acquaintance. I mean…”

“You need my help as a psychiatrist.”

“I need your help as another professional who worked on the Chesapeake Ripper’s case.”

“I see.” Lecter says and sits down opposite Will.

“They found another body. I’m not authorised to tell you any details though.”

“Then how do you want me to help you?”

“There are a few options. We can talk about the case illegally, providing we agree not to sell each other out.”

“That would require a lot of trust.” Lecter observes.

“Or you could see Jack Crawford from the FBI and volunteer to be my consultant on the case.”

“I didn’t know you were working for the FBI.” Hannibal states, his eyes sparkling in excitement.

“I’m… not real FBI. I’m a special investigator.”

“Is it because of the psychiatrists you told me about? They didn’t give you a pass to be an FBI agent but the Bureau still needs you so they invented the title so that you could work for them after all?”

“Exactly.” Will confirms through clenched teeth.

“Well, the offer is tempting. I recall working for the FBI was at the very least an unforgettable experience. I only worry whether I could be of any help.”

“Why don’t you find out?”

“By joining the Bureau.”

“Yes.”

“I’ll consider the proposition.” Lecter promises with a polite smile and narrowed eyes.

Will stands up from his seat, so does Hannibal, visibly displeased.

“Leaving me already?”

“I’ll give you some time and space to think.”

“Am I going to see you before Thursday?” Hannibal asks and Will smiles at the bold assumption they will meet in the church again.

“Not likely.” Graham responds and leaves the office, closing the door behind him.

**********

The knock on the front door of his house at this hour must mean only one thing. Will grabs his jacket and approaches the door, expecting Crawford to be the one on the other side. He didn’t hear a car driving up but that’s probably due to the new systems cars have these days. Hybrid, or whatever they call it.

A shock is persistent on Graham’s face when after opening the door he sees Alana, instead of his grumpy demanding boss. He lets the woman inside and hangs both their other clothes.

“What are you doing here?”

“Oh, there’s all sorts of reasons why I’m here. Do you have a beer?”

“Um, let me check. Please, have a seat.” Will says looking around, aware of the mess he and the dogs have made. He returns with two bottles of beer and starts wondering whether he should bring glasses as well. Graham sits in a chair near Alana and watches the woman take a sip from the bottle.

“I was at the Bureau, having a lecture, and I spotted Hannibal Lecter.” Dr Bloom begins explaining and Will hopes the story is coming where he planned. “He’d seen Jack and offered his help with the Ripper’s case. He’s already had experience so it’s not all that surprising. What is surprising, however, is that he said he volunteered because of a friend’s request. Imagine my face when my long-time friend told me he re-joined the FBI because of you. I wasn’t aware you knew each other?”

“We don’t. I mean we’re not friends. I met him a few weeks ago. He said he was involved in the case once and after the last victim I thought we could use his help.”

“You know… I don’t want to push it, but if you gave it a try and had some sessions with him, maybe he would help you keep your sanity. I mean-”

“I know what those cases are doing to me, Alana. But I’m not insane.”

“I know you’re not. I was just trying to say that he may help you in more ways than one.”

True. Will could use a company of someone witty and representing his own level of thinking. But is Lecter the man to meet the conditions?

“How do you know Lecter, anyway?”

“He was my mentor. I’ve known him for a long time. He’s a good man.”

“You’ve never talked about him.” Will observes. The sparkles in Alana’s eyes say it all. The woman is attached, if not attracted, to Lecter. Dr Bloom shrugs and sips the beer.

“There was never a need. I believed he wanted to stay away from the Ripper case.”

“And you never mentioned my name to him.” It’s not a question but Will expects it to be answered.

“How did the two of you meet?” Dr Bloom asks, neglecting Will’s words.

“He didn’t tell you?” Will asks, amused and taken aback.

“Maybe I want to hear your story.” Alana says flirtatiously.

Graham can never resist Dr Bloom. She represents everything he considers valuable and admirable. She’s beautiful, smart and fairly modest. She never pushes him or confronts him and he likes her for not treating him like a patient. Will realises this is the first time she’s at his house and they are alone in a room.

Will considers telling Alana the truth, how he needed a rest and stepped into a church. Dr Bloom may be the only one he doesn’t feel uncomfortable with, and he doesn’t mind making himself vulnerable around her. It’s just that if she sees him like that… She’ll know he’s troubled and will continue to treat him only as a friend, while he starts craving something more.

“It was a chance encounter, really. But I found talking to him… alleviating.”

“I think he likes you. Otherwise he wouldn’t have come and see Jack.”

Will tilts his head and looks at the fireplace. The dogs gathered on the floor there, searching for warmth. Dr Bloom follows Will’s eyes and smiles. She’s fond of dogs, too.

“Were you in a romantic relationship with him?” Graham asks, not facing Alana.

“No.” She answers simply; she doesn’t even flinch. “Why?”

“Guess just my relentless curiosity.” Will isn’t sure if he should go further in this direction but somehow he cannot help himself. Instead of focusing on his relationship with Alana, he pursues hers with Lecter. “You seem very fond of him is just all.”

“I suppose there was a time when that door was open. But he was already having an affair, so I continued to respect him and treat him as a friend.”

Will nods in acknowledgement and finishes his beer. Alana’s bottle is almost empty as well.

“Do you want another one?”

“I think I should be going.” Dr Bloom says with a faint smile but doesn’t move to stand up. “Don’t you?”

If she stays for one more bottle, she’ll have to stay the night. And he has only one bed. This is either leading to them having sex or to more disappointments. Before Graham makes up his mind, Alana is already standing and reaching for her coat on a hanger. Will sighs and almost trembles with regret. Should he stop her now? Is she disappointed in him? This would probably never work, Will thinks and lets her go.


	5. Empathy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> slightly longer; i hope somebody is still reading xD

It’s raining and Will’s trousers are stained thanks to a driver who decided not to get around a puddle on the road but to run right through it, splashing dirty water all over the pedestrians, including Graham. The clouds are still dark and heavy above people’s heads and the forecast said it would be like that for the next few days.

Will folds his umbrella and enters the church. He’s hopeful and he hates it. But the spark of adrenaline no longer dwells in his organism at the thought of meeting Lecter. It evolved in curiosity and a need for manipulating. Will wonders if he’s going to sabotage Alana’s relationship with Hannibal.

Graham takes a seat in the last row, where Lecter is already waiting for him. This is odd, meeting someone in a church – a place where people come to worship and have a moment of silence and privacy.

“So, it turns out we have a mutual friend.” Will says, omitting polite greetings. Hannibal smiles widely.

“I was glad to hear you are known to dr Bloom. I respect her judgement and her opinions.”

“Did you ask her about me?”

“Did you?”

“No. I prefer to get to know you personally. And despite the fact that I too trust Alana with her opinions, I would rather not be a subject of psychiatrists’ friendly conversations.”

“We didn’t talk about you. We never have. I’d rather learn about you myself as well.”

Will nods. He watches Lecter’s face and studies every wrinkle. There is something similar to honesty there but, on the whole, the man appears quite difficult to read. Graham looks away, avoiding Lecter’s eyes, and focuses on a man in the first row. He’s dressed in black and trembles. Probably in mourning, crying.

“Now that I’m officially allowed to talk to you about the cases, I believe we could schedule our meetings.”

“You mean you want me to have therapy sessions with you?”

“Of course not. Unless you allow it. I’m merely suggesting placing our meetings in my calendar so that I could arrange my schedule. I see patients and am very uncomfortable when disorganised.”

“But these appointments…”

“Would be solely professional. To help you. But of course you’re welcome to talk to me about anything you want, anything at all. We’re not in a doctor-patient relationship. You’re not officially my patient.”

“Alright. So when do you have a spare hour to see me?”

Hannibal takes out a neatly folded piece of paper from his pocket and hands it to Will. Graham reads the dates and frowns. However will he be able to see Lecter on a regular basis when his work for the Bureau is not a typical job with regular hours?

“These are the hours that are the most convenient for me to see you.”

“They’re mainly late in the afternoon.”

“I believe seeing you after my last patient will give us the opportunity to prolong the meeting if necessary. I hoped it would be appropriate to offer a late hour rather than to make you wake up at four in the morning in order to drive all the way from Virginia.”

“I don’t have problems with getting up early. My sleeping hours are not very… systematic.” Will is interrupted by a woman sitting in the row before the men, who turns to look at Graham, sends him an irritated look and goes on to pray again.

“The sooner we start seeing each other in my office the better.” Lecter observes with an amused half-smile.

“Let it be Monday then.” Will says and returns the piece of paper to Hannibal.

“Monday at seven. It’s settled.” Lecter states and looks at the altar in front of them. “Will I continue seeing you here evry Thursday as well?”

“Perhaps.”

**********

On Friday Will is assigned to another case. The flight to North Carolina is delayed and then, when Graham finds himself finally on the plane, there are two babies crying throughout and a few older people bothering him to read something because they forgot their glasses.

Jack with the team are already at the crime scene, waiting for the profiler to work his magic. In the meantime, Beverly has already looked for any prints and minute details that would help, while Price and Zeller mostly throw snarky remarks and argue about something completely unimportant.

Graham shows up at four and grimaces at the sight awaiting him. A woman, a mother, killed and left on the floor. There is no one else in the house, her son was doing shopping when she was killed and now is sitting in front of the house, being hugged by his friends. Will has seen people who lost their parents. Hell, he himself wasn’t a kid from a perfect family. But something about this man just doesn’t add up. Graham didn’t look him in the eyes, he merely looked at his clothes, and he knew something was out of place.

“The killer didn’t respect this woman.” Will says upon seeing the body. He takes off his glasses and that’s the sign for the rest of the team the leave. Graham watches the woman carefully and tries to find a motive for this particular crime. She’s been shot, not from a close distance but close enough not to miss. It wasn’t an execution. It was an ultimate scream for the woman to stop whatever she was doing. There is regret. There is passion.

Will closes his eyes for a moment. He needs his mind to slow down. In a moment Graham can hear only his heartbeat. And the gunshot. The woman falls down on the floor and bleeds out. The killer was aiming at the heart. For a quick death or is this supposed to carry some symbolism?

Will watches the woman breathe out for the last time and then she’s gone. Graham feels tears coming to his eyes in a sad realization of what he just did. The killer, not him, Will repeats to himself over and over not to lose his sense of identity. But it feels as if he was responsible.

Will opens his eyes and calls out Jack’s name.

“Yes?”

“The son, Jack. He decided he’s had enough. He killed her.”

Crawford nods and leaves the house. He needs to find out what really happened in this house.

**********

Hannibal puts away the last book and then returns to his desk. He checks one last time if the office is neat and if it’s warm enough due to the fire. The chairs are in a fair distance but closer than when Hannibal sees other patients. Will is not his patient, though, so he can afford this slightly more intimate approach.

Lecter looks at the fancy clock on his desk. It’s seven. The last patient left five minutes ago, which gave Hannibal a chance to prepare for the visit of his new acquaintance. Or maybe a partner? They are to talk about the Ripper’s case because Hannibal has been accepted as Will’s consultant. So that makes them partners on the case in a way.

A knock at the door raises the corners of Lecter’s lips in a smile. He’s here. Will Graham is here.

Hannibal smooths his jacket and moves to open the door.

“Good evening, dr Lecter.”

“Good evening, Will.” Hannibal answers and motions the man to come in. He closes the door but stays where he’s standing to watch Graham move. Will takes off his jacket and places it on the couch by the window, which makes Hannibal narrow his eyes. Graham takes a seat and observes as Hannibal follows suit.

They are sitting opposite each other, challenging each other in a way.

“How was your weekend, Will?”

The question throws Graham slightly off balance. He’s here supposedly to talk about the Ripper’s case, not to indulge in complaining about his car or the dogs.

“It was fine. No new case so I continued working on the old ones. And I had to prepare to the lectures. Apart from working for the FBI as a consultant I also teach.”

“Yes. Alana mentioned you’re shaping young minds and help them notice things we usually omit.” The statement makes Will curious and wary.

“I mostly talk at them and hope they won’t repeat any already known mistakes.”

“Is there any mistake _you_ regret the most?”

“This is turning into a therapy session.” Will remarks and touches the bridge of his glasses in a nervous tic.

“Forgive me. As a therapist it’s difficult for me not to focus on you as you sit in the chair usually occupied by my patients.”

Will nods, accepting the apology and the excuse and he wonders whether that was an implied invitation to meet on a more neutral ground. But no, Lecter feels comfortable here; he wouldn’t give it up.

“We could change seats.” Graham suggests with a faint smile; it’s supposed to be a joke but Hannibal stirs a little and then faces Will, his pupils dilated.

“I suppose it would make me as uncomfortable, to be analysed.”

“But since you can’t help yourself let’s make a deal – quid pro quo. For every question you ask me I have the right to ask you something as well.”

“This sounds fair.” Lecter comments and crosses his legs in the chair. So it begins. The rules are set and now it’s time for the game.

“So do you want me to answer your question, now that we’ve established the rule?” Will asks.

“I rarely back down. So please, tell me what you regret the most.”

Graham takes his time in looking for the proper answer. He regrets many things, how can he name only one? And he doesn’t want to sound ungrateful. The words form in his head but he’s afraid of releasing them just yet.

“Sometimes I regret going back to the field. Sometimes I wish I stuck to fixing boat motors and had a normal life.” Will admits and looks away. He seems to be very interested in one of the paintings.

“A boat engine is a machine, a predictable problem, easy to solve. There are other people who can deal with that.”

“There are no irreplaceable people.”

“But it would be more difficult to find another skilled profiler as yourself than a Diesel mechanic.”

True. Will cannot deny it.

“I know it must be difficult for you, entering the crime scenes and seeing bodies abandoned by their souls. But I can see you’re not selfish. You put the needs of others above your own.”

“There’s one more thing you don’t know about me.”

“Your empathy.” There is a short pause and then Hannibal continues. “Don’t look at me like that, Will. I’m not a psychic. But I listen to you carefully. And I observe. You carry a heavy weight on your shoulders.”

Will nods shakily and sighs. There’s a relief in knowing someone is aware of your problems.

“When I enter a crime scene it’s not the dead body I see. I mean, it’s not what frightens me. It’s the fact that at that moment I think like a killer. I look at the evidence, I recreate the act of killing and I…” Will closes his eyes. He’s already in a bad place. Then he lifts his head and makes eye contact with Lecter. “Jack walked into the classroom and dragged me out of it. He knew- he _knows_ what it does to me. But he’s not going to stop.”

“Not until you catch the Ripper.”

There is a bitter laugh and Will stands up. He approaches the desk and moves his forefinger against the edge.

“In the meantime your sense of guilt rises and will soon flood you, blind your other senses.”

“Are you calling me a fool for falling for it?”

“No. I’m thinking of the options for you to embrace it, rather than to fight it.”

“Do you want me to embrace the guilt?” Will asks, turning to face Lecter and leaning against the desk.

“Not directly.” Hannibal says and stands up as well. He approaches Will and stands closely to the man. “You repress some things, all people do. You’re a good man, Will, and it hurts you to see what those killers do. More so, it hurts you to understand why they do it.”

“I see them so clearly.” Will murmurs.

“But why don’t you, for a minute or two, allow yourself to forget about who you are and feel what they feel. Lose yourself in the act of killing and dismiss any remorse.”

Will frowns and looks at Lecter. His hands no longer shake, they’re clenched in two fists on the desk.

“I can’t do that. That’s what I try so hard to avoid. I need a paddle. To help me come back from these dark places.”

“I believe we’re looking in two opposite direction of the solution.”

“And we’re not even supposed to talk about that. I came here to ask you about the Ripper.” Will rises his voice, slightly angry now, and shakes his head.

“Then ask me.” Lecter remains calm, focused, polite.

“He takes trophies. Organs. Why? What does he do with them?”

“Well… I don’t believe he sells them on the black market.” Hannibal states and the remark makes Will smile. His face muscles relax and his heart slows down. Lecter is standing next to him and it becomes difficult to bear so Graham moves. He walks around the office, looking up and down and over the walls. He approaches a bookcase and tilts his head to read the titles. Some of them are not in English and Will’s curiosity takes over. He picks one of the books and opens it on a random page. Some medical stuff with pictures. Will flicks through the book and suddenly stops. A picture catches his eye and Graham quickly closes the book with a loud thud.

“Anything interesting?” Comes a dark, low voice from right behind Will’s shoulder. It almost makes Graham jump and a shiver runs down his spine.

“You.” Will answers, a mere whisper coming from his mouth. “Surgeon, psychiatrist, a chef.” The last word cause Hannibal to smile warmly, but the glint in his eyes betray him. He’s wearing a mask. “I wonder what other talents I’ll learn about.”


	6. Happy Hunting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> short one bc i wanted to give You SOMETHING  
> i hope to post more very soon ^^

“He’s eating them.” Will states with a visible disgust. He barged into Crawford’s office at eight in the morning, after spending the night over cookbooks and recipes in the Internet. “The Chesapeake Ripper is eating his trophies. I looked it up, I looked everything up. Every organ he took can be cooked and eaten.”

Crawford points at the chair in his office for Will to take a seat but Graham shakes his head and keeps standing.

“That doesn’t really help the case, does it? If we can’t find any evidence-”

Jack is interrupted by the door opening when Beverly walks in.

“Sorry but we have another body.”

Will sighs and looks at Katz’s shoes.

“Is it the Ripper?”

**********

A dead girl is lying in her room, in her bed. The parents found her and called the police. Now they’re in the kitchen downstairs, crying and reassuring each other.

Graham walks into the room, grimacing at the fact that the parents touched the body. They hoped she was just asleep. They wanted to wake her up. Later they only stepped back and leant against the wall in a silent scream.

Will looks through the open window and breathes in. The air feels contaminated. Violence fills the air and it punches Will right in the stomach.

The gold string in Will’s mind moves from left to right side and back again, slowing his breathing and reimagining the scene from a few hours before. Graham sees the girl asleep on the bed and waits. He’s careful and quiet. Then, he quickly jumps on the bed, tightening his grip on the girl’s throat. She wakes, opens her eyes and begs silently. Will only waits. His palms feel the veins in her neck, pumping blood, rushing. Graham remembers what Hannibal told him and tries not to feel guilty. He focuses on the girl’s shallow breathing and her last moment of struggle. Then, it’s over. Will releases the air from his lungs, happy.

His eyes open and he frowns.

**********

“Her liver was removed. And then he put it back in.” Jack says over the phone while Will makes a sauce for the pasta.

“Why?”

“That’s why I’m calling you. Why do you think?”

Will puts down the spoon and turns to look at the dogs.

“Something wrong with the meat.”

“Christ. I’ll have Zeller and Price check it in the morning. But Will… I just learnt there are seven girls missing, all similar. Same eye colour, same hair colour, roughly the same age, same height, same weight. And our girl, Elise Nichols, she fits the profile.”

“Something is not right. But I bet the rest of the girls are dead.”

“He didn’t leave them on display.” Crawford observes.

“I think…” Will hesitates stating something too quickly.

“He keeps some of his victims?”

“No. And the eight girls don’t really add up to the Ripper’s profile.”

“So are we dealing with another killer?”

“I believe so, yes.”

“As if we didn’t have enough problems. Alright, I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Sure.”

**********

Jack Crawford enters the classroom at nine thirty, right after Will’s lecture. He elbows his way through the crowd of the to-be-FBI-agents and approaches Graham, who seems uneasy.

“Anything new?” Will asks, hoping deep in heart that the case solved itself and he’s no longer needed.

“Katz found a little piece of metal in Elise Nichols’ clothes, a shred from a pipe threader. I sent people to check people working at the construction sites that use this kind of pipe. But we could use another pair of hands. How many lectures do you have today?”

“Only one more.”

“Why don’t you let the students go and set off to find our guy? You know what to look for.”

“No, I don’t. You believe I have special powers that will enable me to sense if the guy is the killer just by looking at him. But I’ll be looking for anything, anything peculiar, nothing specific, just like the others.”

“Maybe dr Lecter could help you?”

“He’s probably seeing patients.”

**********

With the list of addresses in hand, Will jumps in the car and drives off. He knows Lecter is busy the whole week and he must be seeing a patient at eleven but Graham is determined to call him and tell him about the discovery.

The phone rings and rings but Hannibal must be really in the middle of therapy session. Will gives up and goes at the first address. Only by one in the afternoon does his mobile display Lecter’s number so Will answer.

“Hello, dr Lecter.”

“Hello, Will. You seemed to be needing me.”

“Yes. Sorry, I know you’re busy at your office but they found something and now I’m checking the lead. I thought maybe you’d like to join me. Or at least that you’d have a few minutes to talk. I don’t know if Crawford already told you there might be another killer?”

“Yes. Jack keeps me more or less informed. And I would really love to join you in your search but unfortunately, I see patients until five.”

“It’s okay.”

“But how about you join me for dinner tonight and we can talk about what you found out?”

“Oh, I… When?”

“Let’s say eight. Would that suit you?”

“Sure. I should be done by then.”

“Happy hunting, Will.”


	7. Prologue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> another short one bc i want to change a way of narration xD

Will knocks at Hannibal’s door five minutes after eight. He’s wearing a faded red shirt and dark, almost black pants. There was little time for him to go back home, have a shower and change but how else could he come to this perfectionist of a man? Definitely not sweaty and tired after a whole day of visiting construction sites.

“Good evening, Will.” Lecter says upon opening the door. He takes Will’s jacket and leads the man straight to the dining room. “Please, have a seat.”

Hannibal leaves the room for only a moment to bring the dishes and then sits opposite Will. Graham remembers the first time they had dinner. Two strangers by one table. Will still cannot believe that ever happened.

“So, tell me, Will, how did the hunt go?” Hannibal asks with an amused smile.

“Not great? I still have a few places to go tomorrow but I lost hope.”

“Oh, no, this is the wrong attitude.”

“Well, we only have a small piece of metal to go on with. And I still cannot see the killer. Actually…”

“Two killers now.”

“Yeah. Did Jack tell you about the eight girls?”

“He did. And you’re right. They’re not the Ripper’s victims.”

“So… even if we find the guy it won’t be the Ripper.”

“I believe you underestimate yourself. And it’s Jack’s fault. He wants you to wrap your head around the Ripper and you ceased appreciating the smaller victories.”

“There is no victory yet. Not even a small one.”

“But you already undermine it.”

Will hangs his head down and chews the meat. Lecter is right. Anything other than catching the Chesapeake Ripper stopped counting, while his mind is still under a lot of pressure and keeps being damaged.

“I did it.” Will murmurs quietly and then lifts his head only slightly, still not looking at Lecter. “When I was at the crime scene, I saw myself as the killer and I… I lost myself for a moment.”

“Did it feel good?” Hannibal asks, careful not to startle the other man. Will nods shakily, terrified of his own reactions and inner workings. “You have to start appreciating your gift, Will. I know you see it as a burden and the cause of your problems but it really is fascinating. It’s what makes you unique - your ability to understand people’s motivations.”

“I can see and feel what others see and feel.” Will breathes out. It really makes him uncomfortable.

“Then you have the advantage.” Hannibal moves his hand placed on the table in Will’s direction but he quickly stops and withdraws. He doesn’t want to do anything in haste. “You need to get rid of the guilt. You’ll see more clearly if you focus solely on the killer’s intention and emotions.”

“I’m afraid that if I forget the guilt, I’ll become one of them.”

“You have me by your side. And you can always call me.” Hannibal assures with a warm expression. His hand rests on the table, promising, offering some comfort even if at a fair distance, not touching. “My patient at eleven cancelled his appointment. I’m free till two in the afternoon. I could join you tomorrow.”

“That’d be nice.”

Will takes another bite and then sips the wine. The combination of flavours tastes divine and at this moment Graham feels like he would give everything up to lead a simple life, with good food and fine furniture around him. Sadly, this is not the future he sees before him.

“Lungs.” Hannibal explains and Will frowns. “You were looking at the meat with wariness so I thought an explanation was in order.”

Heart. Lungs. Graham has never eaten such variety of meat. And prepared in such a delicious way.

**********

He’s walking along the road. There is forest on both sides. It’s dark but he can see everything. There is a shadow, a dark shape in a distance and he follows it. He wants to catch it.

The shadow seems to be closer and closer but still only a dark figure. Will feels something wet on his clothes. He looks down and sees dark stains on his shirt and pants. It’s blood, it has a coppery smell. Will knows it too well.

It’s warm and the wet clothes feel uncomfortable so Will takes off his shirt. He’s covered in blood, lots of it.

Suddenly, it start raining. But it isn’t a small drops of water that are falling down from the clouds. Will’s hair gets wet and sticky. The drops batter his face and soon his whole body is wet.

He starts running, chasing the dark character. But the faster he runs, the farther the figure seems to be. Soon, his legs become tired and the road melts, turning into mud. He’s stuck. He’ll drown.

The black figure approaches him but his eyes are wet with blood. He can’t see.

**********

Will parks his car in front of Lecter’s office at eleven and waits. The man appears on the sidewalk and then enters Will’s car.

“Hello, Will.”

“Hello, dr Lecter.”

“Please, I know we’re professionals and this is more of a business encounter rather than anything else but I’d be feeling more comfortable if you called me simply Hannibal.”

Will swallows and stars the engine. Maybe if they weren’t working together on the case, maybe if Lecter was somewhat less sophisticated and… maybe Will could call him by his name. But this would feel far too familiar and out of place.

“We only have a few places left to check today.”

“You know, I’m really curious how the FBI goes about its business when it’s not kicking in doors. It should be refreshing.”

“You’re lucky we’re not doing house-to-house interviews. You’d be bored to death.”

Hannibal smiles, revealing a part of his white slightly crooked teeth.


	8. Over trauma we bond

Stumbling across Hobbs’s name was a matter of luck. Will and Hannibal were going through the documents of the employees of one of the construction sites and then Graham seemed to take the name out of the hat. Garrett Jacob Hobbs had left a phone number but no address. All the other employees left addresses and Will wondered if Hobbs had something to hide.

The address was not difficult to get and a half hour later Will finds himself getting out of the car by the man’s house. Graham swallows an aspirin and approaches the front door. Lecter follows him.

A figure moves in the window and after a second a man walks out of the house with a woman who has her throat cut. The man disappears in the house while Will tries to save the woman lying on the floor. She’s gone before Will can do anything. Graham enters the house, takes out the gun from his belt and moves swiftly through the house, leaving Lecter behind.

Will steps into the kitchen where the man is standing behind a girl, holding a knife to her throat. This is not a simple threat – the man _is_ about to kill the girl. There is little time to think. Will has no other option as to shoot.

Once. The bullet hits the man’s shoulder, barely hurting him. The girl falls on the floor but the man doesn’t give up. He lifts the knife, aiming to finish what he started.

The second and third bullet surge through the man’s chest. He’s stopped but Will doesn’t stop at that. He shoots again. Until nine bullets fill the man’s body, making sure he’s dead and unable to hurt anyone else.

The girl lies on the floor, bleeding out. Hobbs manages to cut her throat but this is not a fatal wound. She can be rescued.

Will kneels before her, still in shock and haziness. He can’t think clearly. He only knows he wants to save the girl.

He grabs her neck, trying to stop the bleeding with his palm. He’s terrified.

“No, no, no.” Will whispers. His face is covered in blood.

The girl is trying hard to breathe. If she doesn’t get help soon, she _will_ die. Finally, Lecter appears in the kitchen, probably hoping the gunshots ended because the man is captured. He looks at the scene before him, mainly at Will, who is still trying to beg fate or any mighty force to save the girl. Hannibal observes Will for a moment longer and then kneels before him, releasing the girl from his grip, offering help.

**********

The walls of the hospital are faded blue, the light is almost too bright and cold. A nurse is going somewhere, there is plenty of medical stuff in the corridor. Will absorbs everything but his mind closes. The clock on the wall keeps ticking and it gives Graham a headache. He enters the room on the right and the first thing he sees is the bed. The girl with tubes in her mouth and arms is lying there and a screen next to the bed is indicating her pulse. To her right, Hannibal is sitting in a chair, sleeping. It was a long day. Lecter has his arm stretched, holding the girl’s hand.

Will steps closer. He watches the girl and Hannibal. Then, he takes a chair and sits on the other side of the bed. His eyes close but the nightmares he sees behind his eyelids are even worse than the one he sees right now.

Graham doesn’t want to think. He wants his brain to have a rest and let him have a rest. The cell phone in Will’s pocket buzzes so Will turns it off completely. It is too late, however, because the phone seems to have woken up Lecter. Hannibal’s eyes open and he looks at Will. There is a shadow of a reassuring smile there, if only for a second.

“Abigail.” Will whispers and Hannibal nods. That’s the girl’s name.

They don’t need to talk about what happened but they will. Graham moves his hand to lay it on the sheets next to Abigail’s hand. He’s afraid to touch her, he believes he shouldn’t touch her.

“She won’t wake up soon. But eventually.” Hannibal says, looking warmly at the girl. “Have you eaten?”

Will shakes his head. How could he possibly eat? He’s just killed a man.

“I believe it would do you good. You can’t neglect your health.”

“I’m fine.”

“You should have someone to take care of you, Will.”

“A guardian angel?”

“Of sorts.” Hannibal stands up and bends slightly to stretch his back. “Why don’t you join me at dinner again tonight?”

“Do you want to discuss what happened today?”

“Only if you like.”

“I need to see Jack.” Graham says and there is a pause. He won’t be seeing Crawford the whole evening. So he either accepts the invitation or quickly makes up another excuse. “I need to talk to him, explain what happened and close the case. Then, I guess I could come round. If you’re really up to having me all tired and shaky at your dinner table.”

“I don’t mean to turn my dinners into therapy sessions but maybe we could work out your current situation.”

**********

Half past eight Will is sitting at Hannibal’s dinner table. Lecter brings in two bowls and then sets them at their seats. He pours some wine and sits opposite Will. It feels familiar. Will almost got used to this.

“I thought black chicken soup might be a good way to start.” Hannibal says and watches Will reach for the spoon. “A black boned bird prized in China for its medicinal values since the 7th century.”

“You say it like I’m ill.”

“Of course not. It will only help you get the strength you need to fight crimes.” Hannibal speaks with a half-smile.

They sit in silence for a moment, enjoying the hot meal and each other’s company. Will wants to laugh at the thought of him inviting Hannibal home. He could offer him a glass of whiskey and maybe pasta. Nothing spectacular. Here, he is given a red carpet treatment.

“Hobbs killed girls that looked like his daughter.” Graham says and Hannibal is happy he wasn’t the one to broach the subject.

“Was this a way of finding a release? Did he want to kill Abigail?”

“No. It wasn’t out of hatred or passion. He was reasonable. She was about to start her own life and he couldn’t watch her go.”

“Did you find the other victims?”

“No. Jack worries what Hobbs might have done with them.”

A pause. Lecter has something in mind and is about to take the risk of spilling it.

“Abigail is left alone now. She’s lost her parents, she’s abandoned.”

Will sighs and tightens his hold on the spoon in his hand.

“We share the traumatic experience with her. We should stay with her.” Hannibal says and Will frowns. “We are her fathers now.”

“We barely know her.” Graham dismisses Lecter’s words.

They finish the soup and Hannibal brings in the main course.

“Loin, served with a Cumberland sauce of red fruits.”

“Loin. What kind?” Will asks absent-mindedly.

“Pork.”

Hannibal takes a seat and tastes the meat. Will seems to be paying attention to something else, something happening in his mind, rather than at the table and Lecter observes the process.

“You can tell me anything, Will.”

Graham lifts his gaze at Lecter and nods slowly. He swallows the mouthful and sets the fork by the plate.

“The first bullet wasn’t enough, I know that. I had to shoot twice. But the second and the third bullet hit him hard and yet I didn’t stop. I used up the whole magazine.” Will confesses.

“You killed a bad man. You stopped him from killing innocent people.”

“Still, it feels wrong.”

“But it didn’t feel wrong when you did it. Otherwise you’d have stopped.”

Will hangs his head and then looks up at the other man again.

“It felt just.”

“You knew Hobbs would have done it again. You knew he was a bad man. That’s why killing him felt good.”

“I felt powerful.” Will admits and reaches for the glass of wine.

“Did you, at that moment, think like him? Did you forget who you are and that made killing him easier?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t intend to kill him. Maybe it was something else taking control over me.” Will starts wondering if maybe Hannibal’s words hit him harder than he suspected. Maybe he was looking for joy when he shot Hobbs and maybe he found it.

“Did you get rid of the guilt?”

Graham doesn’t reply. He’s afraid of admitting the truth.

“You stopped a killer.” Lecter reasons. He wants Will to see the beauty in the horror and the advantage where Graham sees shame and fault.

“There will be others like him. Or maybe not like him but there will be others who take lives.”

“Are you ready to stop them all?”

“I want to stop the madness from spreading.”

“It’s impossible, you must know that.”

Will knows. He’s aware.

“I’m afraid I’m affected by it.”

“Everyone involved is. We can either deny it or embrace it.” Hannibal says and Will takes a sip of the wine.

“Have you embraced it?”

“I accepted the concept of the world not being a perfectly safe place long ago.”

“That’s not what I mean.”

Hannibal smirks and stands up from the table.

“What do you mean?” Lecter asks in a low tone and looks at the dirty dishes.

“Have you accepted the dark part of yourself?”

Hannibal smiles. It’s a bit hesitant like he’s still not sure what Will is talking about. Did he figure it out? Did he tell Jack? Is the FBI going to barge into his house, break the windows and kick the door?

In the midst of thoughts and worries Hannibal barely pays attention to what is happening. Will stands up from the table as well and raises his eyebrows questioningly. Lecter considers his options and finally a wide smile appears on his face.

“Would you like to spend the night?”


	9. Nothing casual about this

“I’m not new to casual sex and I like you but we work together.” Will chuckles and begins collecting dirty dishes.

“No one has to know. Unless it is your moral compass that tells you this is inappropriate.”

“Doesn’t yours?”

“No.”

Will frowns at the simple answer but then smiles. Maybe sex would be a nice distraction from all that happened. But with Hannibal? So that it would be awkward later?

Graham looks at the other man as if checking if he’s to his liking. He shakes his head and takes the dishes back to the kitchen. Lecter takes glasses and follows Will.

“I hope you didn’t find my question rude?”

“Rude, no. Straightforward.” Will corrects and puts the dishes into the sink. “But I don’t mind. I prefer people to be honest with me.”

Hannibal nods gently, helping Will with the dishes. There is silence between them and Graham begins to hate it. As much as he’s used to quiet surroundings and he’s comfortable with Hannibal not speaking, he’d rather have the man talk now.

“Did you mean it? Would you really sleep with me?” Will asks, while drying a plate with a cloth.

“Gladly. You’re a handsome man. I find you immensely attractive. And I’m fond of your way of thinking.”

Then there is some form of attachment. It’s dangerous if you want to have casual sex. But Will wouldn’t have it with a mere stranger.

“Alright.” Will puts away the clean plates and Hannibal takes care of the glasses. Graham leans against the counter and watches Lecter closely. “Kiss me.”

Hannibal narrows his eyes and then takes a step closer towards Will. And another one until he’s almost pressing against the man. Their eyes meet for a split second and then Hannibal leans in to connect his lips to Will’s. It’s a brief brush, merely scratching the surface of what could happen. Graham thinks one more glass of wine and he wouldn’t have hesitated. He presses against Hannibal, placing a palm on his cheek, and deepens the kiss.

**********

A stag leads the way and Will follows. On both sides of the road are all the victims of the Chesapeake Ripper. Some of them are missing a limb and most of them are opened, their ribs and internal organs clearly visible. Will admires the collection of an artist and then the stag stops. It disappears into thin air and a black figure with horns appears instead. Graham has seen such a character before in a book somewhere. A wendigo. A symbol of…

**********

Will wakes up abruptly and sits up on the bed. The clock tells two in the morning and Will feels cold. His throat is dry like he was screaming for hours. He decides to go to the kitchen to have a glass of water and maybe start a fire in the living room. Graham doesn’t’ want to wake up Hannibal. Maybe he should leave the house altogether? The man will have to wake in the morning, have breakfast and go to see his patients. Will is one of his patients. They agreed on this being one night stand.

The kitchen looks slightly like a morgue. All the steal and wood of a very peculiar colour. Will approaches the sink, turns the tap and drinks some water from his palms. On his way to the living room, Will finds himself curious about the door, probably leading to a pantry. There would be something exciting in being sneaky. Perhaps it will be also disrespectful but Graham turns the knob and pushes the door.

It’s dark inside but Will quickly manages to find a light switch. The view is almost exactly as Will expected. A freezer with pieces of different kinds of meat. There are also bottles of wine. Nothing to be suspicious about. Yet Will has been suspicious since he met Lecter. There was something so calm and soothing, yet dangerous and attractive about Hannibal that would make him a perfect criminal. He could do a great cult leader.

Will steps closer to a small table with cooking equipment and hears there’s something odd about the floor. There must a basement underneath. Graham looks at the meat in the fridge and wonders if Hannibal would notice one piece missing. He doesn’t know how he would explain stealing a piece of meat or telling Price to process it but maybe there’s another option.

Graham leaves the pantry and hears very light footsteps.

“Will?” Lecter appears in the kitchen the moment Will closed the door to the pantry.

“I didn’t mean to wake you. I was thirsty and cold. I was just going to start the fire.” Will explains and watches if Hannibal will buy the story.

“I’ll do it in the bedroom. Come.”

Will follows Hannibal to the bedroom, where Hannibal kneels in front of the fireplace and makes the wood burn. It’ll be warmer in the room in a moment. Graham sits on the edge of the bed and watches Hannibal. He’s wearing only pyjama pants. Will swallows at the thought of his arms around him. Again.

Lecter smiles warmly at Will and when he sees the man shiver, he sits behind Will. The curly chest hair tickles Will’s back and the shiver along his spine is cause by something different than cold. Will leans back, presses against Hannibal and sighs. Lecter kisses his neck and shoulder. Will’s cheeks already heat up and redden beautifully.

The next kiss is pressed lower, another lower still. Until Will no longer feels cold.

**********

For the provocation to work, it has to take time. Will can’t risk being exposed; he cannot be found out.

Lecter makes them both breakfast in the morning and then they split – Will drives to Quantico and Hannibal to his office.

Fridays are often lazy, the last working day of the week, so if anyone decides to call in and report a crime, Jack and the others are pissed. Of course they have worked many weekends and of course they don’t mind – that’s the job they’d chosen, but, hell, can’t the killers make breaks at least on weekends?

Graham walks into his classroom as if nothing happened and carries a lecture, two lectures. Before Alana steps in and asks about Will’s well-being.

“I’m fine. We caught him and he will never hurt another person.”

“Will, you never killed anybody, you hardly ever get so involved in a case. You just pulled the trigger ten times.”

“Nine.” Will says and Alana frowns. “It was nine bullets.”

“Nine.” Alana repeats quietly, nodding, and takes a step closer to Will. “Have you talked to Hannibal? He was there; he knows what you’re going through.”

“I have. I see him every Monday.” And Thursday. Yesterday was the first Will didn’t meet Lecter in the church.

“For consulting?”

“Sort of. We talk about many things.”

“That’s good. I know you’d feel uncomfortable in therapy.”

“I assume he invites you for dinner from time to time?” Will asks, pretending the question to be casual.

“He does. I also attend his dinner parties.” Alana looks at Will, suspecting something, and sits at the edge of the desk. “Has he invited you for dinner?”

“Yeah. Yes. He’s a man of many talents.”

Alana smiles and touches the hem of her dress. “He really is. How about you join me at his table tonight?”

Will considers the proposal. Should the three of them even sit at one table? It seems to be a strange love triangle. She was interested in him, Will has had sex with him… Everything starts spinning and Will leans against the desk next to Alana to avoid fainting or falling down.

“Actually, I was going to read all the Ripper’s file again.”

“Do you have a lead?”

“I…” Might have. Hope so. Or maybe not really. “I’m working on it.”

“Good. Just don’t let yourself be buried in this case until you can’t breathe anymore.”

“I know I need space, Alana. That’s why I want to spend the weekend alone in my house, cosying up with my dogs in front of the space heater.”

Dr Bloom smiles widely at Will’s words and recreates the vision in her head.

“I hope you’ll find what you’re looking for. And if you change your mind, you know where I will be.”

Will nods.


	10. Revelations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> another short one and i don't know where there will be next one :/ i have an idea for something else so we'll see

The wind outside scares the dogs which curl up in front of the fireplace. Will is sitting in a chair, looking at the photos of the Chesapeake Ripper’s victims. Every person was missing an organ, a trophy, something which can be used in a dish. He’s eating them. Or maybe he’s got the meat in the freezer, waiting for a more important occasion.

The dogs gradually fall asleep as the hours pass and Will keeps reading the files. He’s trying to understand why the Ripper takes the organs. In his mind they didn’t deserve them? It’s a public shaming? He’s displaying his victims to show their true nature?

Will goes to the kitchen for a glass of whiskey. It’s going to be a long night.

At midnight Will starts wondering if Alana stayed the night at Hannibal’s. Did the man offered her his services? Is he touching her the way he touched Will?

Graham can’t stop his mind from shaping disturbing visions and he knows he’s getting harder. It may be the recollection of the past night or the jealousy that makes his dick twitch but he’s not going to deny how good it feels.

“Dammit.”

Will’s never been in a relationship which required commitment. He’s not sure he’s even capable of being in one. How can he know? And it’s not like he wants to find out _now_. And not that he wants that with Lecter.

Graham looks at the photos from the crime scenes to make his erection go away but it’s not much helpful. He closes the files and rubs his eyes. That’s it. Half past midnight and he’s done. Due to inappropriate thoughts. God, how long has it been since he masturbated? But he just had sex yesterday. Great sex, actually. Maybe he missed this and maybe now that his body was reminded of how good it feels, he wants it again.

“Wait a second.”

Maybe that’s how the Ripper feels about killing. He killed once. He realised this is the way he was born. So he continued. He’s never been caught. He likes playing the game. He likes making everybody seem less smart. He wants to be the smartest person in the room, and hell if he’s not. He’s not a recluse. He likes being around people and keeping a straight face while he’s thinking about the dish he’s going to make from one of the people there.

Will’s thoughts flow quickly like a stream in his head and he can’t stop it. The only thing is that he cannot see the Ripper’s face. He cannot…

Graham’s hard. Painfully hard now. The adrenaline from discovering something new makes his blood pump faster and in the least proper places. He needs to do something about it.

Will reaches for his phone. It’s almost one in the morning. Should he call anyone at this hour? He’s been drinking so he definitely shouldn’t be driving. Seems like he’s going to have to tend to the matter himself.


	11. Snake Charmer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> finally ^^ the end xD

Graham knows Hannibal sees patients on Saturday but only till three, so until three Will is going to flick through the Ripper’s file, again, and try to find even the smallest pieces of information that would bring him closer to certainty. At noon Alana calls and asks how it’s going and Will is only seconds away from asking about her evening with Lecter. Intrusive but, well…

“How was your evening yesterday?”

“Very nice.” Dr Bloom answers and then continues after a pause. “Are you asking if we talked about you?”

“Um, no. Did you?” Will gets slightly concerned.

“Not really. Hannibal is very discreet. I believe that’s admirable.”

“Yeah.”

“So have you found anything new?”

“No. I need to refocus.”

“You need to sleep, Will. Have some rest, eat something sweet. I’m sure you’ll focus then.”

“I might just do that.”

Will hangs up and grabs his car keys. He drives to a shop for some fresh juice, then to the hospital where Abigail is. He stays for half an hour and then leaves.

**********

Hannibal drives up to his house around half past three. He parks the car and gets out of it. He can already see Graham at the doorstep.

“Hello, Will.”

“Hello, dr Lecter.”

Hannibal smiles at the appellation, opens the door and invites Will inside. They take off their coats and Hannibal leads them to the kitchen.

“Are you hungry? I’d love to have a salad.”

“Um, sure. I could use with some food.”

Hannibal smiles gently. He’s torn between scolding Will for not taking care of himself and jumping with joy that it’s exactly him who becomes Will’s guardian angel. It’s Hannibal to whom Graham came and with whom he feels like eating and spending time.

Lecter takes out some vegetables and a chop board. Will finds two knives and they work together on the salad.

“I heard you were looking through the Ripper’s file again.” Hannibal begins.

“Yes. I was hoping to find something I previously missed.”

“And?”

“Nothing.” Will says and eats a piece of a cucumber.

They finish the salad and go to the dining room. Hannibal makes them tea and they start eating.

“I think the Ripper kills out of compulsion. I think it excites him. He walks down the street with the knowledge that he’s god, that he’s defied god, so many times.”

Hannibal smiles, a mere twitch of his lips, and wipes his mouth.

“So is he an atheist?”

“I wouldn’t call him that. He accepts the concept of god. He just wants to…” Something starts clicking in Will’s head but he can’t put his finger on it. The puzzle is still hazy behind his eyelids.

“He wants to defeat god?”

“Um…” Graham blinks, his eyes are slightly red.

“Relax, Will. I can see you’re tired. Your brain needs rest.”

“Yeah, probably. But I wanted to go on with the case and get it over with.”

“But it’s not so easy, is it? Otherwise, you’d have solved it long ago.”

“Yeah. Or you would have.” Will challenged.

“Maybe together we’ll manage to do that. They say two heads are better than one.”

They finish eating and despite Hannibal’s offer to stay and have a nap in his house, Will goes back to his house.

**********

Sunday is lazy. Will takes the dogs out and then calls Hannibal. He invites the man for dinner but asks Lecter to bring a piece of meat. He explains that he’ll have everything else but Hannibal always seems to have fresh and delicious meat.

Graham cleans the house and prepares everything to be ready when Hannibal comes.

At seven, Will spots the lights through the window and steps out of the house to greet his guest. Will wonders if kissing the man’s cheek would be too bold so he simply hugs him. They take the meat Lecter brought and cook it with the rest that Will has prepared. Hannibal seems actually fairly proud of Graham and hopes they could discuss culinary arts. Will, however, dismisses the topic of the conversation saying he’s not a real cook; he just can make simple dishes.

“I know it’ nothing fancy.” Will shows Hannibal the table and hopes it’s not too modest for the man’s taste.

“I’m glad you invited me and wanted to share a meal in this intimate atmosphere. I enjoy it more than huge dinner parties.”

“Well, I heard you throw really nice ones.”

“Did you?”

“Yes. Alana told me she’s always impressed.”

Hannibal smiles at the remark but quickly changes the topic. He doesn’t need to bring up jealousy now. Lecter ends up asking about the dogs and the two men have a friendly chat instead of long, tiresome conversation about the Ripper. Will is glad he can have a rest finally. His brain was craving it.

Despite all friendliness and the comfort of Hannibal’s company, Will wonders if there’s going to happen something more between them. He cannot say he doesn’t want to repeat that mistake even if he still calls their night together a mistake. Will accidentally brushes his fingers against Hannibal’s when he takes the dirty dishes and Lecter smiles widely.

When Will cleans up everything and sits back opposite Hannibal, the man speaks boldly.

“Shall we retire to your bed?”

The question makes Will almost choke on his spit but he cannot deny he was glad Hannibal was the one to make this step. They stand up from the table and move to the other room.

**********

In the morning Will wakes up in an empty bed. Hannibal left him a note saying he needed to be somewhere and was sorry to be leaving in a hurry. Graham doesn’t feel offended. He takes a small package from the counter and drives to Quantico. There, he asks Jimmy and Brian to process the little piece that’s inside. The two men frown at Will but he doesn’t care and leaves.

Graham visits Abigail in the hospital. She’s still in the coma, still needing some time to wake up and face the world. Will reads a book to her, something about history of the United States. If she can hear that, she can’t tell him to stop. Maybe he could irritate her enough to wake up.

In the afternoon, Hannibal calls Will. He invites the man for dinner and then a drink, possibly something more. Will smiles at the implication and accepts the invitation.

On his way to the man’s house, Will stops in an expensive café and buys a piece of cake. He shakes his head at the thought how invested he’s become in this relationship. Well, it’s not a relationship as such but… Will enjoys the man’s company anyway. He likes being noticed and having someone to call. Will likes having someone reasonable around, someone who appreciates his gift and makes him challenge his worldview.

Suddenly, a sharp feeling stings Will right inside his chest. It’s regret mixed with the feeling of being wrong and having done something wrong. He hates it.

Will waits in his car for a moment before he steps out and knocks on Hannibal’s door.

Lecter loves the idea that Will bought them something sweet. He decides to skip his own dessert and serve the pie Will brought. They spend the evening talking about their pasts and families rather than consulting on cases. Will feels happy. His mind is no longer occupied by demons and nightmares.

Will starts believing Hannibal is a good man who only seems to be frightening or cold at the beginning, not unlike Will. They have many things in common. Will likes the fact they share a sense of humour.

By the end of dinner Will knows how the rest of the evening will go.

**********

It’s the lack of the dog’s whining that makes Will wake up exactly at four. The perfect terrifying silence pervades the room and Will feels cold again. He goes to the living room where he starts the fire but something draws him to the basement of the house. Will wants to control his sense of curiosity and fails. His steps are quiet as he approaches the door. Then he descends the stairs into complete darkness but his eyes quickly manage to focus and he doesn’t trip or fall.

The next two minutes are a sheer horror. Will covers his mouth with his palm not to scream and he freezes. He realises he was right all along. His next step is to jump up the stairs and probably out of the house but he used to be a police officer. He has to keep calm.

“Will.”

Graham jumps at his own name being called out. He looks at Hannibal who emerges from the living room. Will has no idea what he should do. Can he pretend nothing happened? Should he fight with the man?

“It’s you.” Will whispers and Hannibal raises his eyebrows joined by a shadow of a smile. “It _is_ you.” Will repeats.

Lecter doesn’t deny anything. He waits for the verdict and anything else that will come out of Will’s mouth. The mouth he was kissing mere hours ago.

“Aren’t you going to ask how it makes me feel?” Graham asks, his eyes full of false hope. Maybe he’s still wrong, maybe there has been some misunderstanding, maybe Hannibal was framed… No.

“You’re not repulsed by me, I can see that much.” Hannibal says and Will wants to hang his head down but he challenges Lecter further with eye contact.

“I let you in. I guess I’m the only one to blame.” Will admits.

“You are.” Hannibal’s confirmation makes Will frown but then he chuckles. He’s right. He wasn’t blind. He suspected something was odd. But he wanted to play the game. “You’ve had suspicions since you met me and yet you pushed for more, you kept coming to me. You enjoyed spending the nights with me.”

“You proposed it. Did you want to blind me?”

“You were already blind.”

“You’re a predator. You’re a lion.”

“I’m not a lion, Will. I’m a snake.” Hannibal corrects and Will smiles. Probably a better analogy. Snake sneaks up and attacks its victim in the nick of time.

“And I’m the snake charmer.”

Hannibal smiles widely at the image.


End file.
